


talks and whispers

by arthursmorgan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:48:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthursmorgan/pseuds/arthursmorgan
Summary: „Crowley,“ soft, like the feeling of Aziraphales wings on Crowleys arms. „Yes, angel?“„Have you ever- well, have you ever been in love before?“





	talks and whispers

The leaves on the ground rustled by with the wind as Aziraphale closed the door to the bookshop and tenderly turning his sign from „open“ to „closed“. As soon as he turned around, he was met with a cup of tea being held into his face, the steam carrying the scent of apples and cinnamon. 

Aziraphale cupped the mug between his hands, careful to wind his fingers around the handle resembling angel wings. 

„Thank you,“ his smile deepened as he looked into Crowleys yellow eyes.   
For once, he wasn‘t wearing his sunglasses, and for once, Aziraphale couldn‘t read the expression painted onto his face.

Footsteps were passing by outside and the clock on Aziraphales desk ticked by idly as the angel and the demon exchanged smiles. „You‘re welcome,“ Crowley answered in one breath, and he swiftly turned around and wandered through the bookshelves, admiring the written words as though he had never seen them before. 

Aziraphale passed by as he walked towards the back of the shop; simply to let himself sink down into his armchair and to put his steaming cup of tea onto the small table to let it sit for a while and cool down before he would be able to enjoy it.

And, with no need of any words, Crowley followed him, as he would follow the angel wherever he went, and thus, Crowley traced Aziraphales steps until he plopped down into the armchair opposite Aziraphales.   
Crowley settled his elbow onto the armrest of the chair and rested his head in his hand, his black nail polish reflecting the light of the flame of the candle sat on the table.   
He crossed his legs and looked at Aziraphale, memorizing all the lines he had not noticed in those six thousand years before. He felt like he could spend six more millenia with Aziraphale and there would still be little things he would find anew; little freckles painted onto his shoulder, the way his eyes crinkled and outright shone when he smiled in genuine happiness, the way he would sigh exasperatedly when Crowley made a stupid remark.   
And, at times, Crowley felt as though he was a moth and Aziraphale was the flame, as he would eternally be drawn to him and seek him out and follow him for as long as air still passed his lungs and his heart was still pumping blood. He would spend his entire existence yearning and waiting for the other if it meant to never lose him from his side.

„Crowley,“ soft, like the feeling of Aziraphales wings on Crowleys arms. „Yes, angel?“

„Have you ever- well, have you ever been in love before?“ Aziraphale averted his eyes and leaned forward to pick up his tea, fiddling with the handle as he waited anxiously.

Crowley scoffed, and made a wild gesture with his hands, motioning at everything and nothing „who was i supposed to be in love with?“. If Aziraphale hadn‘t known better, he would have believed to be mocked. But he did know better. 

„I dont know, Crowley. Another demon? Perhaps a human? Which would be a pity, really,“ he wandered off in his own thoughts, thinking of the cruelty of falling for a human just to watch them grow old and die in the matter of a blink of an eye.

„Why are you me asking this, angel?“ 

„Was just curious, is all,“ he took a tentative sip of his tea, and smiled into his mug. „This is utmost delicious, thank you, Crowley.“

„Don‘t worry,“ he waved him off and paused. The clock on Aziraphales desk ticked a few times before Crowley spoke again „Have you?“ 

„Hm, dear?“ He took another sip before he put down the mug.

„Well, have you ever been in love before?“ Crowley asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He threw his leg over the armrest of his armchair and stretched the other out to let his foot rest on the small table. 

Aziraphales eyes drifted. All around the bookshop, towards his Oscar Wilde collection, where they lingered on for some time, over to the front door that occassionally rattled from the wind, and back to Crowleys awaiting eyes. 

„I believe I have.“

After it truly registered, Crowley untangled his legs and leaned forward, his eyebrows raised and foreheard wrinkled. „You have?“

Aziraphale kept his eyes locked onto Crowleys as he answered „I believe so, yes.“ 

„Huh,“ he flopped back against the back of the armchair, resting his arms on the armrests on either side. „Who with?“ he followed up.

Aziraphale drew his eyebrows together as he sighed „oh, my dear, are you really that oblivious?“ his lips tugged up in a very slight smile for the barest hint of a moment.

The chatter outside grew quiet, and Crowleys mind began to wander, going through all the six thousand years he had believed to be the only one in love. Was it true? Was Aziraphale in love with him?

He thought of all the lingering gazes and all the shy touches, the yearning looks and the tears and the smiles and the calls. Aziraphale was in love with him.

When he finally collected all scattered about parts of his mind and made up his thoughts, he stammered „Me?“

Aziraphale scanned Crowleys face softly, sighing quietly „Yes, dear.“

„Aziraphale, I-", he averted his eyes, looking at the ceiling „Me too.“ 

The angel got onto his feet and stepped around the table towards Crowley, coming to a stop directly in front of the armchair. „Come here,“ Aziraphale breathed, reaching down to grab Crowleys hands im his. Crowleys cheeks glistened as tears slid over them, and he got up onto his feet. 

Standing there, listening to the crackling of the lit candles all around them, their hands still clasped firmly together and their breaths mingled, it felt as though eternity was theirs. 

„Is this going too fast for you?“ Aziraphales voice held a shiver and his eyes stayed fixed on Crowleys yellow ones.

„No,“ breathy, almost a whisper, ghosting over Aziraphales lips. 

Then the angel leaned in and kissed Crowleys lips as softly and tenderly as he could, and he felt as though finally, after all those six thousand years of something building up, it was completed.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this very quickly a few weeks ago and never posted it to here it be


End file.
